


true affections

by undying_young



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: M/M, implied depression, it's that time of day ladies, lowkey angsty, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 07:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14848356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undying_young/pseuds/undying_young
Summary: Cyrus shuts himself out from the world for a day, and Jonah tries to bring him back.





	true affections

**Author's Note:**

> an fic request i got on my tumblr yesterday
> 
> i love the song "true affections" by father john misty for the vibe. give it a listen while you read, maybe you'll like it :)
> 
> (keep in mind this was written in little over an hour don't roast me)

 

The day before had been a good day. Really good, _too_ good; so good that Cyrus had to lay down for a good twenty-four hours and ignore all his calls and think about how many more days he'd have that would be really good but never wholly be what he wanted.

 

Cyrus had spent the day before with Jonah, _alone_ , since the girls had been preoccupied with other plans. They'd hung out the park, talking mostly, then briefly playing a pickup game of frisbee with some little kids. Cyrus proved to be better than he thought he'd be, and they let the kids win, giving celebratory piggyback rides and waving at them when it was time for the kids to go.

 

Later, the two bought each other ice cream, then it became an ice cream fight, which resulted in stained clothes and unbearably sticky fingers. It ended with them walking themselves home since neither of them lived too far away (or rather, Cyrus insisting he could walk himself home after Jonah offered, the brown-eyed boy in desperate need to sort out his feelings before he got home and the questions started).

 

Cyrus never really sorted the feelings out, though. He only thought about everything Jonah had done that had made him smile, and that made Cyrus smile, smile to himself all the way home.

 

It was only that morning when he woke up with a horrible realization that that was as good as it was ever going to get. That was as good as it ever could get, because Jonah would never _like_ like Cyrus, because Jonah didn't like boys. And even if he did: of all the boys in the world, why would he go for Cyrus?

 

So he laid in his bed that day, as aforementioned. Buffy and Andi and even Jonah had called and texted, but he turned off his phone. The girls had shown up to his house earlier, Buffy being the one to march in and demand what was going on, but one look at his face, and she had softened. She and Andi had tried their best to comfort him, and he loved them for it, but he waved them off after a while, admitting that he just needed to go ghost for a day.

 

Then Jonah showed up.

 

It started with a knock on the door, then he heard a hesitant, “Cyrus?” as the door creaked open. A bit of warmth came into the room along with the intruder, causing Cyrus  a bit of a chill, and the boy pulled his covers up to his neck. When the voice registered as the person who had inadvertently sent him into this spiral, Cyrus wanted to fade off, but when he found that he couldn't will himself away, he settled for squeezong his eyes shut, and waiting for his friend to leave.

 

Jonah didn't leave. "Your mom let me up. Says you probably needed a friend right now."

 

“Keep out,” the boy croaked, facing the wall. “I'm contagious.”

 

“Cy, I know you're not sick." 

 

 _But I_ am, Cyrus could've said,  _I'm sick of waiting around for the day you'll eventually tell me I don't mean to you what you mean to me, and I don't know if I want to see more or less of you._

 

But, unable to put those thoughts into words he was sure wouldn't get mixed and mangled and ruined on the way out of his mouth, he ended up saying nothing at all. 

 

Jonah didn't let up. "What's going on? You haven't texted me all day.” It was suddenly so quiet that Cyrus could hear the shifting of Jonah's feet on the hardwood flooring. “I texted Buffy, but she only said something about Casper, and--”

 

“I really don't want to see you right now,” Cyrus murmured, opening his eyes and staring at the wall, not daring to turn around to those stupid green eyes that made him feel things nothing else could make him feel.

 

There was a terribly long pause. 

 

Hurt rolled off of him in waves, and Cyrus' heart squeezed.

 

"What did I do?”

 

The possibility that Jonah could've done something was almost laughable. “It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. Just leave me alone.”

 

There was a pause, and Cyrus almost flinched when he felt a dip on the corner of the bed. “I'm not leaving until you tell me what's going on with you. You're my friend, and I refuse to leave you like this."

 

The brown-eyed boy slowly turned over, and sat up. Jonah looked confused and tired, as if he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, either. He was doing a good job of not letting it reflect in his voice, and maybe it would've been hard to tell if Cyrus hadn't known him like he did, but he did. And Jonah only smiled wide at him, brightening when their eyes met for the first time in what felt like longer than only one day, and the brown-eyed boy felt warm  all over.

 

Jonah nudged his arm. “There you are.”

 

Cyrus gave a closed-mouth smile, and scooted to the edge of the bed so they were sitting side-by-side. He began to fiddle with the hem of his sweatshirt. Jonah waited.

 

After a long moment, Cyrus said, “It's like one day I woke up and it just happened. I woke up, and it was the first time I was waking up knowing that…” he trailed off, shaking his head to himself.

 

Jonah noticed his hands trembling. “Cyrus, you're shaking.”

 

The other boy felt himself edging on hysterical. “It's all so stupid, _I’m_ so stupid--”

 

“No, you're not,” Jonah insisted, gripping Cyrus’ hands. “Hey, you're not stupid, alright? Look at me.”

 

Cyrus wanted to scream out that he only needed a second, that Jonah should just give him a second, but he knew he'd be lying. This was gonna take more than a second. It had already taken more than a year.

 

Cyrus could only shake his head again. “I can't.”

 

“You're freaking me out, dude,” Jonah replied, eyes going wide, and frantic. “Cyrus, you're really freaking me out.”

 

He shrugged. “I was freaked out, too.”

 

The green-eyed boy leaned forward, and took Cyrus' hand, distressed. “What do you mean? Please tell me what that means.”

 

“I… It's hard to explain.”

 

“So show me.” Jonah was searching Cyrus’ eyes desperately, looking for anything that would clue him in on what was going on. “Whatever you're trying to explain... Just show me what it is. You don't have to say anything."

 

And Jonah had ended up so close that Cyrus could smell a chocolate milkshake on his breath, could see the ripples in his irises, could feel heat radiating off of him in the cold bedroom.

 

With a slowness Cyrus didn't know he possessed, he leaned in, and connected their lips.

 

The fireworks were real.

 It was the best kiss to ever happen, Cyrus figured, one that gave Cyrus a warm feeling when he realized the other boy was kissing him back, rather than recoiling in disgust. Everything about it felt good, and there was a rumbling in his stomach--maybe because it was new, maybe because he hadn't had much of an appetite that day--but the feeling was welcome. Cyrus couldn't find one fuck to give anymore, and it would always be the best decision he'd ever make. 

 

When he pulled back, Jonah was only looking at him; not in shock, or disgust, or even confusion. There was a little haze over his eyes, as if he were in some sort of trance. Cyrus spoke quietly. 

 

“I'm tired of acting like you mean less to me than you really do.”

 

Jonah's voice came out smoothly, like gentle waves at sunset or a spoonful of honey, or something like that. It was steady and soft, and Cyrus wondered what made him sound so different right now.

 

Jonah blinked slowly. “You like me.”

 

Cyrus shrugged. “Not like you'd ever like me back.”

 

Jonah frowned. That seemed to snap him out of it. “Cy, I was kissing you back just now; were you even there? Doesn't that mean anything to you?" 

 

It was Cyrus’ turn to frown. “But why would you--”

 

“Why wouldn't I? You're _you._  Need I say more?”

 

Cyrus blinked twice, and scratched his head. “A daily reminder going forward would be helpful.”

 

Jonah laughed, and threw an arm around Cyrus' shoulders. “I'll be sure to do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> i love comments


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